


With Each Sunset (Comes the Promise of a New Day)

by caplico



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Established Relationship, Gen, M/M, akira is depressed, also there's no actual love triangle in this dont let the tags trick you, everything is sort of bad, spoilers for shido's palace, yusuke is jealous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-06
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-10-28 14:25:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10833120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caplico/pseuds/caplico
Summary: Late at night, when Akira woke to the distant roar of some motorcycle, he simply watched Yusuke’s chest rise and fall as he slept, and wondered if he deserved him at all.akira can't process grief, yusuke can't process anything, and both of them are depressed. spoilers for shido's palace.





	With Each Sunset (Comes the Promise of a New Day)

**Author's Note:**

> this is so bad, and i am so sorry. i would have proof-read this if i didn't have an essay due midnight tonight. also sorry for not posting for over a year, though not as sorry as for this fic being bad.
> 
> the title comes from the wonderful piece by Richard L. Saucedo, titled With Each Sunset (Comes the Promise of a New Day). it doesn't go with the mood of the fic at all, but it's a beautiful piece and you should listen to it.

Something had happened. Akira couldn’t quite understand what, let alone name it, but it was as if the entire world had become greyer. Wherever he went, the air always felt heavier than it did before. The whole atmosphere, as vague a term as that was, weighed him down. He had no words -- really, none. The closest term to describe what he was feeling could be “grief”, but it wasn’t really that. It was bigger, duller, and indescribably worse.

At least Shido confessed, which was great, but soon it became hard to feel any joy at all. Time kept mercilessly marching on, without any regard to those it was leaving behind. Things just kept happening, and nothing had any point, and he was going to get arrested soon anyways. It became a matter of when.

Thankfully, Yusuke visited him one night, right after he had closed up Leblanc. “I do hope that I’m not intruding.” He sat elegantly at the bar, legs crossed, looking especially pleased with himself. “I managed to sneak out of the dormitory tonight.”

Akira looked over him wearily. He was gorgeous -- so gorgeous, and so sincere. His entire presence radiated this light of comfort and beauty. And still, almost immediately, the brunet felt worse. He stood still for a long time, unsure of what to say.

“Hi.” He finally said. His throat was dry and prickly. Everything felt hazy, and unutterably bad. He wasn’t sure if he was on the brink of tears or collapse, though likely it was both.

Yusuke, perceptively, returned his gaze with an unusual degree of openness, slowly lifted himself from the bar stool, and moved to embrace the other teen. Akira did not embrace him back. 

“You look awful.”

Akira let out a muffled chuckle. “Thanks.”

“Glad to hear you can still laugh,” said Yusuke, and when Akira did not respond, he said “I love you.” Akira did not respond to that, either.

He must have still been shaken from the Palace, Yusuke proudly deduced. Traumatized, even. Though, he really had no idea what was happening in Akira’s head, and Akira himself had no idea either. He pulled away slowly, and did not look Yusuke in the eyes. He looked at his collar, and moved his hands mechanically to fix it, despite there being nothing to fix.

“Sorry, I’m so fucked up right now,” he began. His voice was uncharacteristically even, and part of it scared Yusuke. It was devoid of emotion, though not in the sense that Akira truly felt nothing. Maybe he felt too much, and something in his brain short-circuited. A part of him broke.

Smiling at that moment would have been inappropriate, though Yusuke did let himself a satisfied smirk for another precise observation. Satisfied or not, though, he was still unnerved.

Akira’s fingers traced over the lines of Yusuke’s beige jacket. He could not look at him, or speak, and therefore explain himself. It was a prison, really. Living was some sort of prison. He apologized again, then slowly, and with great difficulty, spoke:

“I can’t stop thinking about Akechi. How I just left, and did not look for a way around, or try to break the barrier. And it’s not like that would’ve actually done anything, but I didn’t even try.”

Yusuke peered at Akira closely. He was afraid of speaking, since it might accidentally come off as crude, or otherwise and generally an awful thing to say. Akira sensed that. He let his arms fall back down to his sides, then pressed his forehead against Yusuke’s shoulder. Without hesitation, Yusuke pulled him in.

Akira paused to swallow the bile which rose to his throat, before continuing. “I really don’t think he was bad. I want to look at this objectively, and maybe a part of me wants to condemn him for the shitty things that he’s done. But I can’t, and I don’t think anyone on the team can. I think we all feel bad. So why am I the only one that’s fucked up over this?”

Yusuke could not respond. He never liked Akechi, really. He always managed to demand Akira’s attention in a way that Yusuke himself never could. And it was subtle, too. He just said things a certain way, with a certain grace and sensitivity that Yusuke knew he would never achieve. After all, he was "odd", and even though he did not think so himself, he very well understood that other people thought of him that way. Deep inside he knew that he wasn’t like most. A day will one day come when he will act strangely and without restraint, and Akira will leave. He knew that day would come. Akechi’s presence made that day seem closer, somehow.

He concluded to himself that he didn’t feel especially bad, but he felt bad enough to not let his jealousy get in the way of comforting his boyfriend. He did not notice when he started crying though, and that frenzied him. “Are you okay? Why are you crying?”

Akira found something comedic in his voice, apparently, and chuckled through a quiet sob. “Who knows anymore?” He pulled back, then angled his head in a way that made his and Yusuke’s eyes meet. “Can you stay here tonight? I feel like shit. I want you here.”

It was then that it occurred to Yusuke that while he was thinking, Akira must have come to some sort of a conclusion on his own, too. His eyes shone dully in the yellow light, wearing a sort of an unreadable expression. Something between sorrow and yearning.

When they slept, Yusuke curled up under Akira’s arm. Late at night, when Akira woke to the distant roar of some motorcycle, he simply watched Yusuke’s chest rise and fall as he slept, and wondered if he deserved him at all. If one day Yusuke will find out that once, Akira felt a certain way about Akechi -- a way that does not lend itself easily to words. Yusuke will understand that he is terrible, and leave. Or maybe not.

He watched Yusuke sleep for longer, and before sleep reclaimed him, he managed to articulate something to himself very clearly: He loved Yusuke, a lot. And one day the feelings he has over Goro’s death will pass, and not return, because Goro Akechi isn’t here, but Yusuke is. 

And there was something wonderful and calm about that resolve. It was like a promise. A new will to continue to reform this rotten world, if not for himself, then for the two of them.


End file.
